


Harry Potter and the Masked Vigilante

by stillscape



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:17:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillscape/pseuds/stillscape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a silly little thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Potter and the Masked Vigilante

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpunkyAR](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpunkyAR/gifts).



”Boys,” Felicity muttered into her butterbeer. She tried sinking despondently into her seat, too, but the wooden benches at the Hog’s Head weren’t made for that.

“They’re really quite unconscionably stupid,” agreed Hermione.

“There’s a war going on, and all they care about is—”

“Quidditch.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

***

Harry pressed three fingers to his forehead. His scar had begun throbbing, and for once, he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Voldemort.

“Oliver…” The last thing Gryffindor needed was another pre-match duel between its own players. “Ron. You’re on the same side. You're on the same team.”

But Oliver and Ron continued to circle each other in midair, wands drawn. Harry half hoped it would just turn into another chase round the Quidditch pitch. He hated to see Ron embarrassed, but Ron’s broom was no match for Oliver’s top-of-the-line Firebolt. At least a race would be over quickly, with minimal injury. The last time they'd fought during practice, Bludgers had come out, and while Ron was a good Keeper, Oliver’s aim was deadly. It would be nice, Harry thought, to hold a practice that didn’t end in someone going to the hospital wing.

“Ronald Weasley,” called Oliver, “you have failed this Quidditch team.”

“I haven’t!” Ron howled, sounding wounded.

“Let it go, Oliver,” called the team’s other Beater, and Harry sent a grateful look in Diggle’s direction.

***

“You know what’s wrong with them, right?”

Neither Felicity nor Hermione bothered looking up from their Arithmancy homework.

“Yes, Ginny, we know,” Felicity sighed. She continued scribbling. “They’re tragically incapable of emotional honesty.”

“And they’re going to fail their O.W.L.s,” added Hermione.

“They’re so focused on the match. I mean, yes, I want to see them beat Slytherin too. We all want to see them beat Slytherin. But they’re spending too much time talking about beating the M&Ms—”

Hermione snorted, but Ginny didn’t get the joke.

“It’s a kind of Muggle candy,” explained Felicity. “They’re little chocolates. They come in different colors, and some of them have peanuts inside. They’re not the best Muggle candy, but they’re really great for certain circumstances, like when you’re at the movies, because the colored coating means you don’t get chocolate all over your hands, and…”

“They’re very popular for Muggle Halloween,” added Hermione. “I was never allowed the peanut kind, though, because of my brace.”

“Anyway, that’s what we’ve been calling the Slytherins. Malfoy and Merlyn. The M&Ms.”

Ginny flicked her wand twice. No one noticed two tiny spells fly across the common room and hit their targets. Ron’s hair caught fire. Oliver’s shirt mysteriously vanished. Both boys started yelling. This, finally, induced Felicity and Hermione to look up from their Arithmancy books.

“Probably,” suggested Ginny, “you should just each go over there and kiss them. Might put us all in better moods.” She watched both her friends turn very slightly pink.

“And will you be going over and kissing Harry?” said Hermione.

Ginny didn’t answer. Laurel Lance had come down the stairs from the girl’s dormitory, a broom and a Quaffle under her arm, like she was going to make yet another play for Ginny’s Chaser spot. This time it was Hermione who secretly aimed and fired across the common room, sending a Deflating Spell right at Laurel’s Quaffle.

“Hey!” called Laurel, turning on them. But by the time she’d crossed to their table, all three girls were immersed in homework once again.

Felicity looked up, her eyes innocent behind her spectacles. “We’re not up to anything but Arithmancy.”

Laurel rolled her eyes and stomped off. As usual, she made entirely too much noise for someone of her stature.

“She’s only been playing Quidditch for six weeks,” Ginny muttered. “How does she even think she’s going to stay on the broom?”


End file.
